


Without Disappointment, No Understanding

by KlingonEtiquette



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Bi Simon Lewis, Clary slowly regaining her memories, Isabelle is a treasure, Magnus and Alec are treasures, Maryse is a treasure, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Memory Magic, Multi, Post-Canon, Spoilers, bi Clary Fray, bi Isabelle Lightwood, let's be real here even Jace is a little bi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-02-29 08:16:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18774775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KlingonEtiquette/pseuds/KlingonEtiquette
Summary: Set after Clary loses her memory. Back to her mundane life, she knows something is missing, but she can't put her finger on it and she doesn't know where to look for answers. She's a promising art student, a reliable and beloved friend, and still dissatisfied.Her friends from the Shadow World, meanwhile, have been moving on with their lives... by outward appearances, at least. Even if they don't talk about it publicly, none of them are ready to give up on getting Clary back. If they have to, they'll even go against the angels.[The title comes from Elisabeth das Musical. A lyric from the song "Kein Kommen ohne Gehen."]





	Without Disappointment, No Understanding

 On Halloween morning, Clary woke up with the same empty feeling she'd been waking up with for months. It passed almost as soon as she blinked, but while it lasted, it was crushing. Sometimes she wiped away a tear when she rubbed the last remnants of sleep from her eyes. She never remembered crying. She never remembered her dreams, either, only that she had felt safe and happy and loved in them. Only that they were gone. But once she got up and got dressed and ate breakfast, Clary felt that empty longing dissipate. 

"Bye, mom," she said to the framed picture on her desk. "I love you."

That, too, felt incomplete. Clary remembered the day her mother died with perfect clarity, but when she thought about it for too long, the edges began to blur and warp. It was a mistake. Wrong place, wrong time, and all it took was a knife between the ribs. Just like she'd lost her father, Clary lost her mother. She remembered holding Jocelyn's hand in the ambulance, crying and telling her it was going to be all right. She remembered the hospital waiting room. She remembered giving her statement to the police—one of them looked a little bit like Clary's mom. But if Clary focused too hard on these memories, she thought she remembered something else. Blood on the floor, blood on pale hands, blood on her clothes and in her hair.  _What did I do_ _?_ someone asked, but the voice didn't belong to Clary. 

But it was just a trick of grief—her mind trying to make a fairytale of loss. One of those German fairytales with the miserable, gruesome endings. Didn't they always lose their mothers in those? Wasn't that the catalyst of some fantastical journey? 

Out of the corner of her eye, Clary thought she saw someone watching her. She turned, hoping to catch them in the act, but they were already gone. Maybe they hadn't been there at all. It was a trick of the light. It had to be.  _I'm going crazy_ , Clary thought.  _That's it. I've lost it._

"Miss Fray, you're late."

Quietly, Clary crept toward her easel in the back of the room. Her friend Margo moved aside to make room for her, shoes squeaking on the linoleum floor. Even Margot seemed like an afterthought. As soon as it crossed her mind, Clary felt a rush of guilt. Today the red paint looked like blood. Clary's thoughts wandered once again to her false memories— _What did I do? Clary, I'm so sorry..._ It felt too real to be a bad dream. 

After class, Clary took Margot for coffee. This, too, felt lacking, and not just because it was Clary's turn to buy the coffee. 

"You're coming to the Pandemonium club tonight, right?" Margot asked. 

 _Pandemonium_. A jolt ran down Clary's spine. She knew that name. She knew that place. But like everything else lately, she couldn't put her finger on how she knew. It was a club—trendy and difficult to get into, but just a club. Clary couldn't imagine people clamoring to get into a club, but it  _was_ Brooklyn. Maybe there was unicorn blood in the drinks. 

"Pandemonium?" she murmured. 

"Yeah. It's the place to be on Halloween night."

Distracted, Clary sipped her coffee. 

Margot continued to talk, undeterred by Clary's sudden silence. "What are you dressing up as? If you don't already have a costume, we can probably go back to my place for a few hours and find you something cool to wear. You've got the hair for Sansa Stark and I definitely have some medieval dresses that would fit you. Might have to lace them up a bit tighter, but I think they'll work. Hey, Clary? Earth to Clary?"

"Hmm?" Clary looked up. "Nothing. I'm fine."

"I was about to ask..." Margot tucked her short, dark hair behind her ears and frowned. "Something wrong?"

"Of course. I'm just... excited about the club." That, at least, felt like the right thing to say. There was something about the Pandemonium itself that felt right, like Clary belonged there tonight. Like the Pandemonium was the answer to all her questions. 

 _It won't be_ , she thought.  _It's just a club_. 

Still, it was worth a try. 

 

 


End file.
